Helpless
by Sardonic Kender Smile
Summary: It started with a single sniffle, when Kent came trudging back from guard duty at dawn...he's ill, and there's nothing Lyn or Sain can do about it. KentxLyn.
1. Part I of II

_A/N: Well. This started off as a oneshot. But then it was eighteen pages. And I hadn't finished. And then another certain KentxLyn author started HECKLING me to post something (HI, MANNA). So…I split it in half, and here's the first part._

_A slight note on chronology and where this actually takes place in-game…well, I guess it's between levels. I had always assumed that the army would have fights in between the battles that actually make up the levels…you know, random ambushes, skirmishes, bandit raids in the like. So that's where this is._

* * *

_**Helpless**_

_Part I of II_

It started with a single sniffle, when Kent came trudging back from guard duty at dawn. The ground, soggy from last night's rainstorm, squelched beneath Lyn's boots as she ducked out of her tent and yawned, stretching up towards the dim and watery sun. Fog still curled around the camp, damp and chilling, and her loyal knight emerged from the smoky tendrils like a wandering ghost.

Although…Kent _did _look like he had risen from the brink of death, Lyn noted suddenly. His face was pale and wan—but for his nose, which had turned red—and his eyes were ringed with dark circles. Dewdrops dripped from his bangs, darkened with moisture.

"Kent!" she called cheerfully, wanting him to look up, hoping for even his slight and cheerless smile. "How do you fare?"

He lifted his head then, only slightly—enough for her to see that his bleary eyes were half-lidded and cloudy. Then, before he spoke, Kent did something that Lyn had never seen him do before:

_Sniffle._

"Good morning, my lady," he said hoarsely, sounding quite stuffed-up. "Did you sleep well?"

"Me?" Lyn blinked, still drinking in his haggard face. "Yes, thank you, I slept fine…I love when it rains at night, the air smells so cool…"

"Indeed, my lovely liege, indeed!" a new voice bellowed. Sain burst out of the tent alongside Lyn's, and the tent's flaps closed rather dramatically behind him as he took a deep breath through his nose and surveyed the misty landscape. "I haven't slept so well since this whole war began!"

Kent bristled to Lyn's right, his jaw tightening and his eyes glaring daggers at his fellow knight. Lyn glanced at the Crimson Shield in confusion. "What's the matter, Kent?"

"It's nothing," he assured her softly. "It's just that _someone _never came to relieve me, last night."

Lyn looked over at Sain, raising an eyebrow. The green knight looked rather guilty for a moment, but quickly lifted his chin and haughtily retorted, "I fell asleep to rest up before my shift, is that such a crime?"

"It is your duty to be there to relieve me, not _my_ duty to come and _get_ you to relieve me!"

"Kent, all you needed to do was wake me when your shift was over, and I would have gladly replaced you!"

"And leave my post unmanned in the meantime?"

"It would have only been a moment—and besides, I would have risen happily enough."

"I couldn't do that," Kent muttered.

"Well, why ever not?" asked Sain indignantly, but he did not get an answer—Kent nodded politely to Lyn, shouldered past his partner with another pathetic sniff, and slogged through the mud to where Lowen had created a weak cooking fire.

"Sain…" Lyn whispered in horror, watching Kent retreat.

"I know," Sain agreed, "He's a mess! Why didn't he just shake my shoulder, if he was that tired? He would have had to return to our tent to sleep, anyway, and I was _right there_!"

"Sain!" scolded Lyn, "don't you see? He _let _you sleep, since you were already doing so—he stayed up all night so that you could get a good night's rest!" She felt her heart ache slightly…Kent wasn't very good at showing affection, but the sacrifices he made for the people he loved were always overwhelmingly selfless.

"With all due respect, O glorious one, it was his own decision—"

"_Sain!_" Now thoroughly exasperated, Lyn grabbed his ear and began dragging him with her towards the breakfast-seeking crowd that had started to gather around Lowen. "Come on, we have to make sure that he's all right!"

**~xOx~**

Despite Kent's fervent (and pathetic) assurances that he would be perfectly fine milady, and please don't worry yourself milady, and _Sain, get your hand off of my forehead this instant_, Lyn and her more flirtatious knight were not convinced. The army continued their long march to war, hugging the curve of the river, and even though it was apparent that Kent was feeling under the weather, he continued to throw himself into his duties as if he felt perfectly fine. Lyn and Sain were sure to watch him all through that day and the following day, searching for any signs of illness--and Lyn noted with alarm that Kent got steadily worse as time passed.

"He can't go on like this," she hissed to Sain. "Why won't he take a rest?"

The green knight rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, my lady, but do you _know_ Kent of Caelin?"

Lyn knew. Lyn knew all too well.

On the evening of the second day since Kent's sniffle, Lord Eliwood had decided to send a small party on a precautionary scouting mission. Lyn had realized too late that Kent had joined Matthew and Isadora on said mission, and she stalked to Eliwood's tent that rainy evening with her blood boiling. She could hear her friend speaking through the thin canvas walls before a much louder voice cut him off.

"Hector, I hesitate to push the soldiers this hard--"

"They'll march if you'll just grow a spine and tell them to _march_! Do you want Ninian back from that madman, or not?"

"How _dare_ you ask such a thing!"

When Lyn stormed into the tent, the first thing she saw was that Eliwood and Hector were glaring at each other, the former's eyes full of anguish and the latter's merely defiant. They both looked towards her as the tent flaps fell closed behind her, however, and surprise replaced any other emotion on their faces.

"Lyndis?" Eliwood asked, the first to speak. "What's the matter?"

She should have tried to be patient with him—Nergal had taken Ninian hostage only a short while ago, and it was no secret within the army that Eliwood had fallen for the girl. Lyn knew that he blamed himself for being unable to save her, and was struggling with the current situation because he cared for her so deeply…but Lyn could not be patient and could not suppress her anger towards the lord of Pherae, because of her own care for her knight.

"You sent _Kent_ with the party?" she demanded, closing the distance between herself and Eliwood in a single stride until they were nose to nose. The lord seemed too flustered by this sudden accusation to reply.

"Kent's reliable," Hector retorted for his friend, folding his arms. "And he notices little things. Why _wouldn't_ we send him on a scouting mission?"

"Because he has a terrible cough!" Lyn retorted, and rounded on him instead. Hector merely raised his eyebrows, not intimidated in the least.

"…And?"

"He's been stuffed up for _days_, and he's not getting better!"

"Lyn, he's a big boy, I'm pretty sure he knows his limits--"

"_He sneezed eighteen times this morning!_"

"Are you counting?" Eliwood asked suddenly in surprise.

Lyn blushed as she turned back to him; her Sacaen habits forced the truth out of her: "Well, y-yes, but Sain and I were just trying to see--"

"Lyndis." Eliwood cut her off with a warm smile and placed a hand on her head in that strangely paternal way of his. "I've also noticed that Sir Kent hasn't been looking himself, lately…perhaps you're right. If he is truly ill, then he should rest. Tell him when he gets back from this scouting mission that he shouldn't take a shift keeping watch tonight."

"I shall," Lyn answered firmly. She took his hand from her hair, but squeezed it hard before she let it go. Hector scowled.

"Hey—how come Eliwood gets off scot-free? The last time _I_ touched your hair, you punched me in the jaw!"

"You were pulling it," Lyn retorted icily.

Hector glanced up at the ceiling of the tent in thought. "…True."

Any ensuing conversation abruptly halted at the sound of hooves squelching through the mud and Serra shrieking Matthew's name. Lyn quickly ducked out of the tent and into the rain, ignoring the icy drops trickling down her neck as she sought Kent, _determined_ to put a stop to his overworking himself…but voices were shouting, weapons were being grabbed, and a clamoring group of people soon sprinted off, back to the trees by the water's edge. Lyn hadn't seen Kent at all.

"Lowen!" she cried, grabbing the shoulder of a passing knight who fumbled with his buckler as he made for his horse, "What happened?"

"That tactician sure thinks fast!" was the young man's only retort. "The scouting group found a swarm of enemy soldiers in the trees, and people were sent out in no time for a routing mission! Actually, I'm one of those people, m'lady, and I'm already falling behind…p-please excuse me!"

The Pheraen knight hopped onto his horse and cantered away, kicking up mud in every direction. Lyn frowned and wiped a chilly splatter of it off her cheek, wishing that she could have her own routing mission to destroy whatever illness it was that had a grip on Kent. She had already failed at making him rest so far…how could she help him? What could she do, before he ran himself into the ground?

**~xOx~**

The party returned just in time for supper, which Merlinus had been forced to make in Lowen's absence. The battle had apparently been quick and easy, with no casualties and fewer injuries, but the bone-chilling rain and fog had wearied the warriors a great deal—although the accursed drizzle had _finally_ stopped. When Lyn finally caught sight of Kent, he was coughing into his fist and sagging forward onto his horse's neck. Sain rode beside his partner, looking thoroughly worried.

"Perhaps you should go to bed, my boon companion," he murmured.

Kent quickly shook his head, mumbling "No, no…I have to keep watch tonight…"

"Kent, you're bloody well going to bed, or I'll--!"

"Excuse me," Lyn said sharply, and walked over to the two. Sain glanced at her beseechingly, but Kent's eyes widened in fear and he straightened up in the saddle.

"Please don't listen to him, my lady," he begged, "I have no intention of--!"

"Certainly not," Lyn interrupted him. Her voice softened as she added, "You need to eat, first."

Kent merely swallowed hard before grimacing as if the action caused him pain. Lyn fought the urge to chew her lower lip as her two knights dismounted and began searching for a dry place to unsaddle their horses.

**~xOx~**

During supper, while Lyn finished eating with Florina, she kept a constant eye on Kent, who sat a few paces away. His usually tight posture had slackened with weariness, and he was only pushing his food around on his plate--she hadn't seen him take a single bite. After Florina excused herself to go make sure that Huey was fed, Lyn marched over to Kent and sat down across from him.

"You won't be going on watch, tonight," she told him sternly, with no pretense.

He looked startled and tried to protest, as she knew he would. "Oh, b-but, my lady—"

She shook her head once, firmly, which was enough to cut him off. "Absolutely not. Sain and I _know_ that you've been ill for days, and we've decided that you're in no condition to watch over the other members of this army—you need to look after yourself for a bit, first!"

He bit his lip, but eventually inclined his head in what was probably the closest thing to a deferential bow that he could manage while sitting. "As milady wishes."

Lyn had promised herself that she was going to be good, that she wouldn't fret over him like a mother hen, but she couldn't help but worry when she saw his face after he had raised it again. He was terribly pale, even his lips, but a fiery blush had spread across his nose and around his neck. Hesitantly, she reached over and placed a hand against his forehead, letting it slide down to his cheek as she checked his temperature. He was burning up, but the damp sweat that beaded on his hairline was cold.

"You're feverish," she told him in a whisper.

He shook his head. "I will be fine, my lady. It's truly nothing, I can fend it off--"

"Would that it was a real enemy, with a real weapon," Lyn told him. "Then I could help you fight it."

He smiled at her—the warmth of it astounded her, especially compared to his drawn face. "That isn't necessary, my lady…but thank you."

She smiled back weakly before standing and taking her leave, placing a hand on his shoulder as she walked past. The last she saw of her red knight before she went to bed was him being ushered—well, forced--into his tent by an insistent Sain, who winked at her as if to say _Mission accomplished!_ before slipping into the tent himself.

**~xOx~**

Lyn woke in the middle of the night, unsure as to why. She wasn't cold, there was no noise besides the faint chirping of crickets in the field, and she hadn't had a bad dream…

_Kent_, was the first thing her mind sputtered out, _Kent, go to Kent._

It must have been a premonition, she decided, as she hurriedly pulled on her boots and rushed out of her tent. She carefully pulled open the flap to Sain and Kent's tent and peeked inside, sure that she was wrong, that everything was perfectly all right—

What she saw instead was one of her knights struggling for breath as he lay limp on his bedroll, and the other kneeling beside him and trembling with indecision. The kneeling figure quickly turned his head upon noticing her presence, and it was Sain's voice that spoke so desperately:

"Lady Lyn, fetch a healer, hurry!"

Lyn didn't need to be told twice. She spun around and sprinted for the healer's tent, plunging into the foggy darkness. She had little idea of where to go, but she hardly thought about that—she just forced herself to run faster, her legs numb and her hands shaking at the sight of Kent's gasping breaths, of Sain's terror. When she finally reached her destination, she burst inside with no word of warning, crying,

"Serra! Priscilla!"

The pink-haired cleric only rolled over and snuggled deeper beneath her blanket, mumbling something about Hector, but Priscilla was sitting up and staring at Lyn in an instant.

"…Lady Lyndis?" she asked faintly. "What's the matter?"

Lyn had no time for formalities, or even coherency: "Just hurry up, come with me, Kent is ill! _Please!_"

Priscilla was quick to rise, grabbing a staff and pulling a shawl around her shoulders on the way out. Lyn began to run back to her knights, and Priscilla looked to be attempting to follow at a jog, but Lyn quickly grew impatient.

_Come on, come on, you're not going fast enough! Don't you know that he's suffering?_

It could only have been a few minutes, but it seemed like _ages_ before Lyn had shepherded Priscilla to the correct tent. The healer hurriedly ducked inside, and Lyn wasn't exactly surprised to hear Sain exclaim with joy and shower her with appreciation in regards to how quickly she arrived. Lyn scowled as she entered the tent herself—they might have arrived quickly, but it hadn't felt fast to _her!_

"What happened?" Priscilla asked softly, sinking to her knees beside Sain. Lyn did the same, lowering herself by Priscilla's other side, although there was hardly room for four people in the little tent.

Sain shot her a smile, but Lyn could see that he was still trembling. "Oh, Princess Priscilla, he…he's been sick for a while, and just kept getting worse…why…?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Why didn't I just go relieve him, that first night?"

Priscilla patted his shoulder sympathetically—if somewhat absentmindedly—and bent down over Kent. Lyn was already busy studying her knight. Sweat plastered his bangs to his brow, he shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold, and each breath seemed to be a battle to draw. He coughed suddenly, in a manner so hoarse that Lyn felt her own throat start to burn. She bit her lip and exchanged glances with Sain, who had reached out to grip his partner's hand.

Priscilla put a hand to his forehead. "Clammy," she murmured, before removing her hand and pressing her lips to his forehead instead, pausing thoughtfully.

Lyn froze. "W-what are you doing?"

"I am checking his temperature," Priscilla replied as she pulled away, giving Lyn a small smile. "Lips are a lot more sensitive to heat than hands are."

"Really?" asked Lyn, her fingertips flying to her own lips.

Priscilla nodded and cast a worried glance down to Kent. "He has a terribly high fever. We're going to have to lower it immediately."

"R-right." Sain stumbled to his feet. "Shall I get water?"

"No—a compress isn't enough, in this instance." Priscilla was already moving, trying to lift Kent into a sitting position. He woke at this, his eyes fluttering open without really seeing any of them. "We'll have to take him to the river."

"The river?" repeated Sain disbelievingly. "B-but…but my dear Priscilla, the river is freezing!"

"That's the idea," the troubadour responded, a strange absence of mercy in her gentle tone. Sain and Lyn wordlessly went to help her lift Kent, and the three of them carried him out into the night.

**~xOx~**

The river was swollen due to the previous two days' rainstorms, swallowing up the muddy banks and lapping at the first stalks of grass that dared to grow. Lyn found herself shivering in the chill night air, but burning with fear within. Every so often she reached out to her dazed knight, whom Sain was carrying on his back, but always withdrew her hand because she didn't know what she was trying to do--stroke his hair? Hold his hand? It wouldn't matter—none of that could help him.

Ah, but she had to try.

She went right to him as they reached the edge of the river, as Sain lowered him to the ground and Priscilla moved to support him. She dipped her hand in the icy water and touched his burning face, coercing him to open his eyes.

"We have you, okay?" she told him softly, urgently. "You'll be fine."

"Lady Lyndis?" he murmured weakly.

"Yes, I'm here. Hang on—things will get pretty cold, in a minute…"

He lifted a hand and covered her own with it, holding it against his face, and closed his eyes once more.

"Come on," said Priscilla gently, moving to Kent's other side to lift him up, wading ankle-deep into the water. "We need to get him in."

Lyn wordlessly obeyed, watching Kent tense as the frigid water seeped through his clothes—or, rather, watching how he didn't react beyond that. Sain's teeth were chattering as he helped his partner deeper into the river.

"P-princess," he asked Priscilla, "Aren't there staves for this sort of thing?"

"I'm afraid not, Sain—oh, don't go too deep! He needs the cold because of his fever, but it wouldn't help any of us!"

Sain obeyed, if rather reluctantly, pressing, "But why not?"

"The staves are blessed by the spirit of Saint Elimine," Priscilla answered, "and that is how they get their power…but the holy Saint was a warrior, who had seen more wounds from fighting and hatred than anything else, and so chose to heal casualties of war or violence. Staves have little effect on illnesses," she added, with a trace of sadness. "It's always a healer's greatest regret—that in some cases, there are things that even magic and light cannot help…"

"Then what _will_ help him?" Lyn demanded.

Priscilla smiled gently. "Knowledge. Prayer. Hope."

Lyn was absolutely dismayed as they let Kent soak in the freezing water. Her fingers, which had previously been aching with cold, had now lost feeling completely. _That's all we have to arm ourselves with? _

She recalled her earlier words with shame: _Would that it was a real enemy, with a real weapon. Then I could help you fight it. _Is that what she had thought—that this illness, this enemy, was something unreal? As if a sickness wasn't as much of a threat as a skilled swordsman, or a veteran general? As if fevers and coughs couldn't harm a body like arrows and lances? No, no, this was worse, _so_ much worse…because there was nothing she could do about it.

As silly as it sounded, she wished for her sword—just so she could feel the worn hilt, and sense the way it joined her body when she swung it. It was so…easy. Controlled. There was nothing hidden in a swordfight, nothing left up to prayer or hope. _Or chance_, she almost thought, but quickly brushed the idea away. There was no chance of anything—he would be _fine_!

The way that Kent was coughing as they brought him back to his tent frightened Lyn all the same.

**~xOx~**

Lyn really couldn't help but admire the way Priscilla was handling the situation. It was common knowledge that the troubadour had been raised in a noble house and was used to being waited on—she even had Erk as an escort to aid her during the war!—but no one ever spoke of the girl's bravery, or strength, or sincere compassion for others. She had already demonstrated all three traits to Lyn in her efforts to help Kent—venturing out into the black and foggy night, wading into a freezing river, and preparing to stay all night long at Kent's side. She was even kind to Sain, who Lyn assumed bothered her quite often with his incessant flirtation. After the green knight had lowered his soaked-through partner back onto his bedroll, he had simply collapsed to his knees beside him, shuddering from more than the cold…but Priscilla reached out and took his hand for a moment, which made him smile slightly. Lyn took a good look at Sain then, who was gripping Priscilla's fingers so tightly that pain flickered across the troubadour's delicate face. Lyn could see the fear in her knight's eyes, and knew that he felt just as helpless as she did.

"All right," Priscilla said finally, her voice soft but businesslike as she removed her hand from Sain's tight hold. "Sain, where are Kent's other clothes? We need to get him changed."

"Ch-changed?" Sain asked, his gaze immediately flicking to Lyn.

"Yes," Priscilla retorted briskly, "We can't have him stay in these soaking wet clothes, can we?"

"Er, no, of course not…" Sain hurriedly dug through the satchel down by the foot of Kent's bedroll and began pulling out whatever he could find. Priscilla professionally set about stripping down the red knight and drying him off with what Sain was able to give her. The three had him dressed and tucked back beneath his blankets in almost no time, though he continued to shiver violently and sneezed once or twice. Lyn felt an elbow dig playfully into her ribs, but when she glanced in Sain's direction, he was "innocently" spreading his own blankets over his friend with only a trace of a grin to betray him.

"He doesn't have such a bad physique, does he?" he whispered slyly out of the corner of his mouth so that Priscilla wouldn't hear him.

"I wasn't _looking_!" Lyn hissed back, though she felt herself flush. She scowled deeply. _By Father Sky, how can he manage to joke at a time like this? Even if he does…have a good point._

"Sir Sain," said Priscilla suddenly, concernedly, as she noticed him sharing his blankets. "What are you going to sleep under?"

The knight smiled in what he probably thought was a cheerful way. "Oh, I'm not going to sleep!"

Priscilla sighed tiredly before turning to Lyn. "And I suppose that you want to keep watch as well, Lady Lyndis?"

"Of course," Lyn replied fiercely.

"Of course," echoed Priscilla softly. "Well…all right. It couldn't hurt, to have friends around in the darkness."

"Darkness…" Sain mused to himself, finding Kent's hand. "You know, Kent only started to get _really_ sick when evening fell. Others are on guard duty, tonight, so Kent got to go to bed on time…but he kept tossing and turning and coughing and…Princess Priscilla, what is going on?"

"Illnesses always get worse in the darkness," she told him quietly. "The body is tired and ready for sleep, so it becomes hard to keep fighting."

"But he _will_ keep fighting," Lyn hissed. "He has to!"

She leaned over and touched his face again, and Kent shifted slightly in his sleep, breathing out a name…

_Her_ name.

Priscilla smiled, though she wouldn't meet Lyn's gaze. "Oh, yes, I'm sure that he will keep fighting."

Lyn looked to Sain to find that _he_ had no qualms with locking gazes…or with grinning in that irritating way of his.

**~xOx~**

Lyn lost track of time, of how long the three of them knelt there in the dark tent. Her knees had cramped long ago, and she was fairly certain that her feet had fallen so far asleep that they wouldn't support her if she stood up again, but those small discomforts were the furthest thing from her mind. Kent's wracking cough came first and foremost, followed by the spasms of chills that shuddered through him in response to the cool compresses that she, Sain, and Priscilla were taking turns holding to his head.

"He'll die of shame when he finds out about this," Sain said once, with a weak smile. "The three of us, fussing over him so? I think he'd rather suffer alone than receive such ardent aid."

"That's not his decision to make," Lyn retorted, taking the damp cloth from Sain to keep administering to Kent, herself. Priscilla merely looked on with a slightly amused smile—probably because Sain and Lyn had been playing the part of the healer a lot more than she had. Lyn knew, secretly, that her reasons for being so protective of her knight were more than because she was his lady and was bound to care for her subjects, or because she was his friend and wanted to see him well again—no, she had started attending to him more fervently than Priscilla because she was aching to _help_ him, somehow, someway. He had helped her more times than she could count: a vulnerary shared to treat the gaping wound in her side even though he was bleeding too; a lance through the enemy she hadn't sensed sneaking up behind her; a strong, warm, calloused hand pulling her exhausted body into the saddle and out of the fray.

He did so much for her. What use could she possibly be to him, to anyone, to _herself_, if she couldn't find a way to do something in return?

A sudden cough tore from Kent's throat, pulling Lyn out of her thoughts with a wince. Priscilla glanced over, her face softening slightly.

"I think I have something for that cough," she murmured. "An herbal medicine, back in my tent…it won't help _much_, but something is better than nothing, no?"

Lyn nodded, and reached for Kent's hand, clutching it tightly in the hopes that it would calm his breathing. It did, but only slightly. _Yes, yes, something is_ much _better than nothing. I can do _something.

Priscilla stood up, brushed off her skirt, and adjusted her shawl. "All right, then. I shall go fetch it. You two stay here and make sure--"

"Let you go by yourself?" Sain cried, leaping to his feet. "Through the darkness and the chill, all alone and unaided? Why, Princess Priscilla, how could you think I would stand such a thing? Please, I beg you, allow me to be your escort!"

He offered her his elbow, and she sighed gently before accepting.

"If you insist, Sir Sain…Lady Lyn? Would you be all right here for a moment?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," Lyn assured, and smiled weakly at Sain. "But hurry, would you?"

"I'd never dream of tarrying," Sain retorted. He covered Priscilla's hand with his own and the two left the tent, disappearing off into the fog.

* * *

_A/N: Why does Kent have to soak in the river? Because that's what ya do, apparently. When I was little, I used to get extremely high fevers very often…and my mom told me that it used to be normal procedure around my house to run my temperature, stick me in a bath of ice water, and wait a few minutes before calling the hospital (since the first couple of times she called, they told her to put me in a cold bath before she brought me anywhere). Mom's Expert Fever-Soothing Trick: DUNK 'EM IN THE FREEZINGNESS. (Ironically enough, I NEVER get sick nowadays xD.) _

_So, anecdotes aside, there's the first part. And I can guarantee that the next part'll be up soon (ah, it feels so good to know that for sure, rather than speculating…). Feedback would be appreciated—especially if the flow/scene changes equaled fail, so that I can try to fix them in the next chapter._


	2. Part II of II

_A/N: Sorry guys…this took a bit longer than I had promised…Music did that thing it does and kinda dragged me off somewhere. Literally. ("Wait—whaddaya MEAN, 'the tenor sax can't play the flute part'? Sure he can! I—no, come on, I gotta go home, I…I'm in the pit orchestra? As of this second? Great. Thanks.")_

_Oh, band teachers. Where would we be without them? WRITING FIC._

_Anyways. This chapter is…pretty much entirely falling action, haha. Apologies in advance for lack of action :P. _

* * *

_**Helpless**_

_Part II of II_

Lyn had hoped that Sain and Priscilla would be back soon with Kent's medicine, but they weren't soon enough. A few minutes after their departure, her red knight began tossing in his fevered sleep, muttering agitatedly—once he even cried out.

"Shh," Lyn begged, and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. At first she wondered if he was having a nightmare, but as his eyelids began to flutter, she realized that he was awake. Awake, and still seeing things. Lyn's heart began to race.

"Calm down, Kent," she whispered urgently. "Calm down."

"No, no," he murmured back. He weakly attempted to sit up. "I have to…have to rise…have to help her…"

"Help who, Kent?" Lyn asked, feeling her brow furrow.

"Have to…help her…"

"_Who_?" she pressed. He was still fidgeting fitfully in his delirium, and Lyn hurled a rapid prayer to Father Sky that Priscilla and Sain would hurry. She wasn't sure what to do. She felt so powerless that her stomach turned and she thought she might be sick.

"Have to…help…Lyn," Kent mumbled urgently, and took another rasping breath. "I'll do it…with everything I have…"

"Calm down, calm down," she whispered again, placing a gentle hand on his chest to keep him still. One word that he had spoken rung around in her head like a massive bell, dazing her:

_Lyn._

"She knows you'd give anything to help her," she said softly. She was touched by his fervent devotion, prominent even when he was practically hallucinating. Without thinking, she pressed her lips to the knuckles of the hand clutching hers, as he had done so many times to her own. He was still struggling weakly, so she moved the hand on his chest to stroke his face. He calmed beneath her touch, and she was able to tell him, "She'd give anything to help you, too, you know. She just wishes that she _could_…"

He mumbled something else, but although she leaned in close and called his name, she couldn't understand it--and he didn't repeat it. He just leaned into her touch, and his pale lips spread into a surprisingly tranquil smile.

**~xOx~**

Priscilla and Sain finally returned. The medicine finally calmed Kent's cough. Lyn was finally able to relax…slightly.

She let go of her knight's hand—which she hadn't released for hours—and leaned against Sain as she felt the sky lighten to the dark dove-grey of impending dawn. The green knight put an arm around her, and she felt his sigh of relief ruffle her bangs.

"He'll be alright," he whispered to her.

"I know, I know," Lyn mumbled back. "I know."

"The sun will rise soon," said Priscilla gently. "The worst is over."

The troubadour rested a timid hand on Sain's shoulder from where she knelt at his other side, and he took the hand in his own instead and touched it to his lips. She smiled slightly. Lyn couldn't help but smirk at that, and dug an elbow into her knight's ribs. He let out a rather high yelp of surprise, causing Kent to stir slightly in his sleep—not restlessly, but the normal reaction of a man close to waking. Lyn's heart swooped in the same ecstatic, victorious way that it did right before she unleashed a finishing blow with her sword.

**~xOx~**

Kent's eyes opened as sunlight began to bleed through the gaps in the tent flaps. This time, they looked fully alert, rather than dazed and delirious.

"Sain," he croaked, "Is it my turn for…for guard duty…?"

A huge smile split the green knight's face, although he looked as if he might simultaneously burst into tears. "Ah, Kent! My boon companion, you've made it to see the glorious dawn!"

"Wait—it's already dawn?!" Kent tried to scramble up, but only succeeded in propping himself up on his elbows before collapsing again. "I…no, why didn't you--?"

"Calm down, Sir Kent," Priscilla pleaded, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You have no duties, today. You aren't well."

"You took a turn for the worse last night, partner," Sain informed him quickly. "You really had me worried! I couldn't leave your side, because you were so ill, and if Lady Lyn hadn't found us and gone to find a healer, I don't know _what_ I would have done!"

"Lady Lyndis?" asked Kent, his too-pale brow furrowing. He looked down, past Priscilla, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of her. "Oh! M-my lady, I'm—"

"How are you feeling?" Lyn demanded, cutting off the apologies that she knew were coming.

He coughed into his fist, his whole chest wracking, but had the nerve to look her in the eyes when he was done and insist, "I feel fine, milady, I think I can get up and—!"

Sain interrupted him by rapping his knuckles against his head—hard. "Oh, stop that, would you please? We went through no end of trouble for you last night, so you'd better not keep trying to be brave about this!"

Eventually, with a little reprimanding from Lyn and a few prim questions from Priscilla, they had extracted Kent's current symptoms from him.

"Trouble?" he asked through the interrogation, glancing between Lyn and Sain nervously. "I…what trouble did I cause?"

"None at all—" Lyn and Priscilla began to assure him, but Sain drowned them out with a loud,

"Oh, Elimine, first you couldn't breathe well and I was positively terrified and then Lady Lyn had to go run through the dark to find Princess Priscilla and you had an awful fever so we had to take you to the river and just dunk you in it and then we had to carry you back and change you and you simply wouldn't stop shivering and our wise, brave Priscilla said that you'd feel better in the morning so we had to wait until the sun rose and it was sheer _agony_ and…Kent, don't ever do that again!"

Sain had managed to get his partner in something of a strangle-hold embrace over the course of his rant. Kent had turned several shades of red, though not from Sain's hold, and his eyes were frozen to Lyn's in sheer horror.

"River?" he asked. "_Change_?"

Lyn cleared her throat. "Er, yes, we had to lower your fever. It was…dark. Too dark to see well," she added meaningfully. Kent's blush didn't fade, but he looked slightly relieved. Sain merely grinned evilly, releasing his partner and ruffling his lank orange hair.

"Too dark to see _well_," he echoed, drawing out the last word until he had turned Lyn's innocent reassurances into something far worse.

"Sir Sain?" said Priscilla primly. A guilty look crossed Sain's face and he shut his mouth. "The patient needs his rest, and he won't get it if you keep talking to him."

It was Sain's turn to redden slightly, and Lyn had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing--she had never seen Sain blush, and Priscilla had caused him to do so single-handedly!

"Rest?" Kent murmured in response to Priscilla's words. "But…I couldn't! We are due to march today, and if I delay anything, I--" He tried once more to rise, but his arms refused to support him. A strange look of helpless despair crossed his face, and Lyn empathized so much that her heart ached.

"I'm _sure_ we'll think of something," she told him. It was then that she noticed she couldn't hear any of the usual morning sounds—no food sizzling as Lowen prepared breakfast, no canvas flapping in the breeze as tents were packed away, no horses snorting as they were saddled and bridled. Confused, she crawled to the opening of the tent and peeked out, spotting only a few people lazily milling about: Isadora without her armor on, Matthew stretching his arms upwards, Lucius with his long hair still tangled from sleep.

"I think I need to go speak to Eliwood," she said suddenly to the three behind her, and burst from her crouch to a swift jog in the direction of the Pheraen's tent.

**~xOx~**

Hector was already in Eliwood's tent by the time Lyn burst in, unrolling a map across a table as his redheaded friend covered a yawn with his hand.

"We're resting?" Lyn asked worriedly, with no pretense. The two men looked up at her, but hardly seemed startled by her sudden entrance. "Eliwood, are you sure that we have time for that?"

"That's exactly what I said!" exclaimed Hector, and turned on his best friend. "I told you, we've got to get a move on Nergal _now_, Eliwood, or else--"

"Morale is too low," Eliwood interrupted quietly. "We will not get far if we order another march—the key to winning battles is to ignite spirits, not to break them."

"This is _war_, not poetry!" Hector snapped.

Although Lyn was glad for the rest, for Kent's sake, she couldn't help but agree with Hector—they were running out of time. Even though Kent was in no condition to ride all day, he was well and _alive_ and could move at least a little…she knew that he would, for Ninian's sake. Eliwood was prolonging the girl's capture and pain for the sake of the rest of the army…Lyn recognized the helplessness in his eyes, recognized it and sympathized with it, and somehow, it didn't seem fair. She hit her palms hard on the desk. "Eliwood, everybody's strong and everybody knows what they're fighting for. We can stand one more day of marching, if it means ending Nergal's horrid schemes. Name _one_ person that you're honestly worried about."

Eliwood gently placed a hand upon one of hers, looking into her eyes. "You?"

"W-what?"

"Yeah," said Hector, hesitating a moment before covering her other hand with his own—and with good reason, because Lyn promptly withdrew her hand from Eliwood's and slapped Hector's to make him let go. He scowled at her. "See, there she goes again!"

Eliwood ignored that. "Lyndis, you've been worrying nonstop about Sir Kent—even Sir Sain has seemed distracted. That's dangerous, when your minds should be focused upon the battles at hand. You must remember that your lives are at stake."

"So was his," Lyn whispered, and suddenly had to swallow hard. Her friends' faces softened.

"You see?" said Eliwood with a small smile. "It's good that we're resting, right?"

"Right," Lyn replied, smiling herself, though the lump in her throat refused to go away. Nobody else but she and Hector would quite understand the sacrifice that Eliwood was making, the strength in his sincerity and smiles. She felt compelled to thank her two friends before she left, hurrying back to Kent's side.

**~xOx~**

"Milady, please, this isn't necessary--"

"No, Kent."

"I must insist, I'm--"

"No, Kent."

"Really, I assure you that I can--"

"No, Kent."

The knight looked utterly horrified—a face which Lyn thoroughly enjoyed seeing on him—as she forced a spoonful of soup into his mouth. Sain, kneeling at her side as she kept her vigil by Kent's bedroll, brought up a hand to cover a snigger.

"Milady," Kent protested after he had swallowed, "This is…ridiculous. You should _not_ be caring for me in such a manner; it is unseemly. I am perfectly capable of feeding myself."

But she was _helping_ him. Lyn felt herself frown.

"Kent," said Sain with an exasperated sigh, "Our poor, brave, beautiful liege just spent all night worrying about you. Won't you allow her the comfort of tending to you? This makes her _happy!_ For Elimine's sake, man, give her some peace of mind!"

"Peace of—uhm!" Kent started to snap at his partner, but was cut off when Lyn poked the wooden spoon into his mouth again.

"Lowen made this especially for you, Kent," she chided. "You would do well to finish it all."

"I would do well to finish it _myself_," he managed to say as his ears turned pink. Lyn leaned close and pleadingly whispered,

"But Sain is right—this _does_ make me happy."

Kent's blush spread across his face as he changed the subject: "W-when shall I be allowed up, milady?"

"Perhaps at suppertime," Lyn mused, swirling the spoon around in the golden soup to gather another mouthful. "If you're feeling well enough."

"I feel fine!" Kent insisted, for the thousandth time already that day. Sain snorted, and Lyn felt herself smirk as she recalled an action of Priscilla's from the night before. She simply couldn't resist…

"Do you really?" she challenged in a murmur before smoothing back his bangs, leaning over him, and kissing his brow.

Kent gasped slightly from beneath her. "L-lady Lyndis…what are you doing?"

"Checking your temperature," she retorted when she pulled away. She fought the urge to wink coquettishly, even though it would have made his blush darken to a delightful shade of red. "You're still a bit feverish."

"May I please rise?" he whispered, almost desperately. "My lance will have rusted, and I doubt that Sain remembered to take the stone from my horse's front hoof--"

"Of _course_ I remembered!" Sain retorted in a wounded tone, and struck a fist over his breast. Then he glanced uneasily towards the opening of the tent before jumping to his feet and bolting out in the manner of a man who had definitely forgotten something.

"Please," Kent said again.

Lyn leaned close over him and stared deeply into his eyes to make sure that he understood her very clearly:

_"No_, Kent."

**~xOx~**

Lyn had decided that Kent might be the most handsome when he was asleep.

She had gone out for a moment to fetch him another bowl of soup, but when she had returned, she found him lying back on his bedroll, peacefully slumbering. She knew that she should probably use her suddenly free time to do something productive—polish her sword, perhaps, or help Wil and Rebecca hunt game—but she couldn't resist sinking down next to Kent, cross-legged, promising herself that she would only stay for a moment more.

He looked _so_ much more peaceful, asleep. The lines in his forehead smoothed out completely, and she couldn't help but smile, seeing him that way. She took his hand for a moment, studying it, running her fingertips over every callus and line on his palms. He had the hands of a man who had spent his life doing nothing but working his hardest. Supporting himself.

Never needing help from anybody else.

"Lyndis?" a light tenor asked suddenly, and Lyn quickly looked towards the tent opening as Eliwood poked his head through. For the first time, she became aware of a familiar, clanking din outside: the sounds of warriors readying for a fight. "Lyndis, I'm sorry to interrupt, but--"

"What's going on?" the Sacaen asked her friend worriedly. "Is it a battle?"

Eliwood nodded. "They need you out there. Please, come with me?" He walked inside and extended a hand, and Lyn could only stare at it, surprised at how different it was from Kent's—the calluses newly-formed, the fingers pale and soft. Eliwood had never needed to work a day in his life, before the war…and had never needed anyone's help, either.

"I can't go," Lyn murmured to him, and turned back to Kent. _This once…just this once…I want to be able to do something for him._

The knight had stirred awake at Eliwood's intrusion, and pushed himself up onto an elbow, blinking up at her. "Lady Lyndis? What is going on?"

Eliwood was quick to explain the situation of the battle, and Lyn watched Kent's brow knit as sleep wore off and realization struck.

"Then please, Lady Lyndis," he said as soon as Eliwood finished, "Go aid the others. You mustn't feel that you should stay behind for me."

Those were not the words that Lyn wanted to hear.

"Who else will watch over you?" she objected.

"I am fine." Lyn could tell that it took more strength than Kent probably had, but he forced himself to sit up unaided and look her straight in the eye. "I am a knight of Caelin. It would be inexcusable for my personal weakness to prevent my liege from doing what must be done."

"Lyn," Eliwood added gently, "Do you remember what we spoke about, earlier? The soldiers are…disheartened. It would gladden them greatly to see you, to rally around you."

Lyn felt her jaw clench as she struggled with herself. She knew that she should be grabbing her sword and heading for the vanguard, ready to protect her friends and allies…but even though this knowledge dawned upon her more fully with every passing second, she couldn't make herself leave Kent's side.

"Lyndis," Eliwood tried again, "Speak to them. Please."

"There must be someone else," she protested quietly. "Hector usually know what to say--"

"Oh Elimine, what did I do wrong?!" a new voice bellowed, right before Hector himself stuck his head into the tent. "Eliwood, Lyn, _somebody_ please get out here and make Serra stop crying!"

"What did you do to her _this_ time?" Lyn muttered.

"Nothing!" insisted the lord of Ostia. "She just started bawling—something about man trouble?—and now she's refusing to go into battle, today! She says her 'heart can't take it'!"

Eliwood smiled and shook his head at the mocking, nasally tone Hector's voice took on for his last few words, his eyes flickering to Lyn. "'Man trouble', eh? I'm fairly sure that this situation requires a woman's touch, Lyndis."

Lyn blew a sigh through her lips. He was right, he was right, he was _right_…but…she looked to Kent one last time, almost pleadingly, and lowered her voice so that Eliwood and Hector couldn't hear: "Isn't this the part where you tell me that you don't want me risking my neck in the fray?"

"Lady Lyndis," Kent contradicted with a smile, "You are our beacon. You have fought in every battle, thus far. The soldiers follow you because they believe in you—and, truly, because they love you. How shall they fight without you to guide them?"

His brown eyes were shining—not with fever, but with something far more ardent. She had seen that look in his eyes before: the moment he realized who her mother was, the day she slew Lord Lundgren, the many occasions before he lowered those eyes to the ground and kissed her hand.

"Kent…"

"Please go, milady," he urged her softly. "I shall be fine, here—you have been caring for me all day. But I could never forgive myself if you remained with me whilst another soldier was wounded…especially if you could have helped him with your skill."

"You mean Sain," Lyn pointed out wryly. Kent blushed slightly, but did not disagree. Lyn felt herself smile. "Don't worry, there's an easy solution to that: I'll just order Sain to stay here with you in my stead."

She let Eliwood pull her to her feet, but Kent quickly shot out a hand and gripped her own, hanging by her side.

"But milady," he gasped, "Who shall watch you with both Sain and I here at camp?"

Lyn almost rolled her eyes at the panic in his own. "Kent, I'll be _fine--_"

"Please do not worry, Sir Kent," Eliwood interrupted smoothly, and Lyn glanced up at her friend to see a somewhat amused look on his face as his eyes flitted between her and her knight. "I shall stay by her side in your place—I assure you, no harm will come to her."

"Unless I _yank her out of this tent by her hair_ because we need to _go_!" Hector growled from the entrance.

Lyn ignored that, and squeezed Kent's hand reassuringly before pulling hers out of his grasp. "I'll be back soon."

**~xOx~**

Lyn rushed into her tent before she sought Sain, finding the Mani Katti's dark sheath beside her bedroll, as usual. She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as she wrapped her fingers around the sword's ancient hilt, feeling the pulse of sacred power beneath her palm, knowing that for that moment, everything was _right_. She could act with this sword, she could make an impact—the solidity of the cool blade against her fingertip, the fine line of blood that welled up on her thumb when she tested the edge, it all helped her realize just how real the moment felt.

She loved knowing that should a situation arise, she would be able to do something about it.

It was with a new sort of serenity that she exited her tent and stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. She found Sain easily by the patch of grass that the army had roped off for the horses to graze in, cinching the buckles on his steed's saddle. The green knight didn't seem to hear Lyn's approach, so she patted his horse's broad neck to get his attention.

"Don't bother with the buckles," she told him quietly. "You're staying here with Kent."

"With--?" Sain broke of incredulously and glanced to the bridle he had slung over his shoulder. "But milady, I've been ordered out into the fray today, and--"

"And so have I," Lyn interrupted. "Who shall watch Kent with the both of us gone?" When Sain was silent a moment, thinking, she lowered her voice and continued. "Darkness might fall before we return…and what if we are both gone and Kent lapses deeper into his illness, as he did last night?"

She could see Sain shudder at the thought, and folded her arms to impress her point farther still.

"Of course, milady," the Green Lance finally murmured. "I would be happy to stay with him. Just…please, be careful." He took her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles when she sighed and nodded assent.

"He's doing fine," Lyn informed Sain, "so that you know. I'd just like to be safe, rather than sorry. He was still a bit feverish an hour ago…"

"Well, you haven't exactly been helping him cool down, m'lady," Sain drawled, referring to the way her lips had lingered upon Kent's brow earlier that day. Lyn scowled.

"Always joking!" she snapped. "I don't have time for this—I need to form up with the rest of the troops."

Her knight was still chuckling as she stomped away.

**~xOx**

Lyn felt strangely at peace as she trudged back from the day's skirmish at sundown. Bandits used to looting caravans of goods on their way to Ostia stood no chance against trained warriors. There had been hardly any casualties—the slight scratch Lyn had acquired on her shoulder was hardly worth being attended to, although a still-whining Serra had protested until Lyn had allowed her to Heal it. Lyn might have been tired, covered in sweat, and ready to jump in the freezing river…but she felt good, especially when her first sight of camp had included Kent, carrying a bucket of water to the cooking fire for boiling.

"Kent!" she called, instantly running to him. He paused and set the bucket down to greet her, though when she reached him, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Her first instinct was to worry, to yell at him, to demand that he leave that heavy bucket alone and return to his tent to rest…but, for some reason, she could not hold on to such a sentiment. He looked so much _better_—color had returned to his face, life had returned to his eyes, and strength had returned to his stance. For all her weariness, Lyn felt herself grin.

Yet then…then she remembered how he had looked the night before, his rasping breaths and heated skin, the panic she had felt. She had been _powerless_ to give him even the slightest aid as his illness raged on inside of him. The thought pained her just as much as it had the previous night, and smile slipped from her lips. Kent noticed immediately.

"Milady?" he asked worriedly. "What…what is the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing," she insisted, and tried to smile again. "I'm just…so happy to see you up and about. You're feeling better, I trust?"

"Milady," he pressed softly. He did not answer her question, merely looking into her eyes and waiting for her to answer his own. She couldn't bear to hold his gaze.

"I felt so…helpless, last night," she finally admitted in a whisper, hanging her head. "I'm sorry. I've never seen you in such peril, Kent, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. To aid you…"

She felt his hand come to rest on her shoulder gently and, surprised, quickly snapped her head up to see that he was smiling. "No, Lady Lyndis, you've helped me greatly."

"Truly?" she asked softly, though she knew what his words _really_ meant—it was a Lycian custom, the practice of telling people what they wanted to hear, a strangely noble effort to lie so that another's heart would be soothed. She knew that his intentions were good, but she wished that he would not lie to her.

"Of course." His amber eyes had softened, though his touch had left her arm. "Simply knowing that you desired my health so much…milady, I was honored. I am sure that even as I slept, your presence gave me strength to fight with."

Lyn blinked. He sounded so…_sincere._ How? How could her futile efforts to lower his fever, to erase his pain, actually have an impact? She had done nothing…his recovery was due to his own strength, and the light of the sun.

His voice lowered to the apologetic tone she had grown so accustomed to: "However…you needn't concern yourself so much with me, my lady…I would have been fine. I thank you for your help, but even without it, I would have fought through anything to survive another day by your side."

"Kent…" Lyn breathed disbelievingly.

He flushed slightly, but managed to assure her, "That is my oath, my duty, and…my pleasure. I will stay by you always, to ensure your safety."

Lyn smiled and took his hand, squeezing it once. "And, of course, I will always do the same for you—even if I can't always help."

"But you _do_ always help," Kent murmured to her, and brought her hand to his lips.

Lyn's smile widened.

He was still for a long moment, just looking at her, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth as if he wished to laugh…

And then he sniffled once, bringing his free hand up to his face as if to stifle a coming sneeze.

"Well," Lyn snapped, immediately pushing him off towards his tent, "since I help so much, let me help you straight back to bed!"

Sain, who had walked by with another bucketful of water just in time to hear her words, let out a snigger that clearly indicated a double entendre. Kent stopped short, flushing furiously, his jaw set.

"Actually, milady," he began calmly, "I would rather that you help me wring his neck, first."

"Now _that_, I can do," Lyn grimly agreed. Sain had already paled, gulped, and sprinted for his life by the time her hand reached the hilt of her sword.

* * *

_A/N: I believe it is officially a curse—I have to end everything on a somewhat humorous note. Part of being a kender, I suppose. Oh well, at least it's done. Thanks to a lot of pestering xD. (Joking—I actually love you guys.) _

_Feedback would be great, if you have the time…I must improve. Must. Thanks for reading! _


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